Tip toe

I hope upon hope that once I am made redundant I can find other employment. I fear for the future. I can’t see that, at my age, I’ll be able to earn what I have been earning. I will probably have to take a much lower paid job. But regardless of any future salary I am determined to live my life in a simple and frugal way. I very much want to reduce my material footprint.

All the fun of the fair

Life is like being on a rollercoaster at the moment; a mixture of a few highs and a great many dramatic lows. Work is so painful now as I know I’m going to be without a job but don’t actually know at the moment when I’ll leave. I am feeling terribly misunderstood.

Emotionally I am more often than not at low ebb. I am finding it hard to concentrate on anything for long.

On the occasions I’m feeling up or optimistic it rarely lasts as something happens or someone does something to put the dampener on life.

I so want to move forward.

Scrapheap challenge

When we were told at the beginning of last week that the branch of the company I work for was closing it really didn’t come as any surprise to any of us. It had sort of been on the cards for quite a while. In fact for me it came as a relief. When you have something like that hanging over you it’s often good to have the certain imminent truth rather than a speculative possibility. Others did not take it in quite such a sanguine way.

The next day and reality set in. the emotions of it and of life brought me down to earth with a bump. I went into a deep decline. Life seemed pointless; nobody loved me, everybody hated me, so to speak. I was preparing myself to go down the garden to eat worms. I’m not good with rejection, especially when I feel that rejection is unjustified. On the scrap heap at 58!

Its 41 years since I left school and not once have I been registered unemployed. There was a brief period in my earlier days when I had three weeks off when I was between jobs but apart from that I’ve been a wage slave all of the time.

I’m scared. I’m scared for my future and I’m sad for my colleagues that are also losing their jobs, some of whom I know will suffer quite badly financially. But I’m coming to terms with it. I now see it as an opportunity, albeit not necessarily an easy opportunity. I’m hoping it will afford me the opportunity to be more creative and perhaps find employment in a different sphere, and perhaps even in a different location. I’ve never overly been fearful of change and it could well make life much more interesting. I’ve come to realise that material wealth is not the be all and end all of life. There is more to life than trinkets.

I’m coming to terms with the soon to be ‘bereft of employment’ situation. My future path is a stony one, but compared with many persecuted souls it will hopefully be no great hardship either. I’ll keep you posted.

Black

I have black moods. I’ve had them since my teens. They are a very strange place to be. I don’t choose when to have them. I don’t know when they will arrive. They don’t seem to be caused by events or other people. They come without warning. They can confuse other people something rotten, and they don’t do me a lot of good either. Sometimes other people think that they have upset me or that I have been upset by someone. Whilst others do upset me from time to time they are never the cause of the blackness. Thankfully, these days, the slough of despond rarely lasts longer than 24 hours, and often it is much shorter. They have also become less frequent the older I get. In my earlier years they might have gone on for several days, often been a lot deeper and manifesting themselves much more often. Now, I know that they will pass; that the chemical imbalance will wash through my system. Sadly, even though I know this, there is bugger all I can do about it apart from retreat into my shell. It’s almost as if there are two of me in this body. Eventually the storm clouds pass and I am all smiles again. I much prefer the smiley me!

My father has HD, HD has my father

People usually look at you with a blank expression if you mention HD, or Huntington’s Disease. Most people have never heard of it, unless they’ve had some experience of it; perhaps from having met someone with it, worked in a caring profession or have family members with it. I suppose because it is not as widespread as something like Alzheimer's or as well known as MS. It is a genetic disease that is passed down directly from parent to child, and it cannot skip a generation. My grandma had it and now my father has it. And for all I know it could be me next. In grandma’s day it was known as Huntington’s Chorea, the Chorea describing the erratic limb movements that are one of the symptoms and characteristics of this cruel and wasting disease. This BBC web page offers a concise but reasonable explanation of what the disease is all about. For a more detailed information go to The Huntington's Disease Association.

As children we watched grandma’s deterioration with both bemusement and amusement. One occasion amongst many that will stick in my mind for ever was at a family tea party when grandma picked up the left-over crusts from my cousins plate, popped them into her mouth, eating them instead of her intended target, the untouched sandwich on the plate in front. It is to my eternal shame that I admit that we laughed heartily at this incident. Kids can be really cruel.

Grandma died at a relatively early age. She was in her early sixties. She was lucky enough, if I might be permitted to describe it like that, to die of a heart attack. She was spared the horrors of physical deterioration and then dying through painful complications brought about by HD. I’m not sure my father is going to fare quite as well. At almost eighty my dad is now on a definite downward spiral. Wasting away. I won’t go into detail as I don’t feel that would be right but as a son that has not always been that close to his father it is still very disturbing to witness. I’m pretty sure that all my life I have been a disappointment to my father. I was never really that interested in sport, diy or outdoor pursuits. I’ve always been the arty and cerebral type. Puny but philosophical. I’m not sure dad has ever understood what makes me tick, a feeling that is mutual. That said I still feel for my dad. I witness his bewilderment and frustration. It is as if he’s strapped in to a mysterious and scary roller-coaster ride. He has no control over the journey and he’s not totally sure of the destination. Sadly as a spectator I’m pretty sure I know where that destination is.

Given that my father has HD there is a good chance that amongst me and my sisters some if not all of us could well be struck down by this horrible disease. There is a test that would determine if I have the faulty gene and therefore could potentially develop the disease. But as there is no cure or any way of delaying it I don’t see the point of having the sword of Damocles hanging over me. I prefer to get on with life rather than worry greatly about if and when the symptoms might show. Besides something else could well get me before the HD works its magic. We are all mortal and we all have to deal with that fact in our own little way.

A moving story

After two years of trying we have finally moved permanently to Norwich; our house in Bury St Edmunds sold a month ago, our matchbox of a rented flat in Norwich went last week, and we are now exclusively and firmly ensconced in our new singular abode. Boy are we relieved. Living in two places is no fun.

We have gone from a three bed 1930s semi to a modern maisonette and the moving experience has been akin to fitting a quart into a pint pot. The feeling that we had been moving forever was also upon us. There were dark days when it seemed as if we would never be settled, but thankfully it all came good in the end. It is all still very much living out of cardboard boxes but we are moving forward.

The pain and the stress of moving has meant that I’ve not blogged for some while. This situation has been exacerbated by that well know bunch of shysters that masquerade as a telecoms company, namely BT. BT currently standing for British Telecom, when it should really stand for Bastard Twats!

My telecom hell is detailed in my letter of complaint below:

Dear Sirs,

I have been appalled and upset by the shoddy treatment and total lack of customer service that I have received from your company recently. Here is the catalogue of your failings:

● We advised you that we were moving house and that we wanted to move our line. You gave us a date of 4/12/09 and a time of between 8am and 1pm saying that someone needed to be on the premises during that time implying that a BT engineer would arrive to connect the line and that we would be fleeced ┬ú122.03 for the privilege. Just before 1pm, rather frustrated that no one from you organisation had arrived I called to find out what was going on. Rather arrogantly I was told that the line had been moved without the need to send out an engineer. The line was not working, and I had wasted five hours because you can’t be bothered to keep your customers informed.


● After spending 23 minutes on my mobile trying to point out to your fault service that there was no line to my flat I was told that an engineer would be with me between 1pm and 6pm the next day (5/12/09). At every opportunity I stressed that this was a new build and that I suspected that the wrong flat had been connected. On the 5/12/09 I waited in for five hours. Guess what? No engineer turned up!


● On Monday, when I had access to a land line I phoned to complain/find out what was going on. I was told that the engineer turned up and that no one was at home. I understandably hit the roof. The BT story then changed to ‘the fault was closed’ and, which is the biggest insult, ‘I would be credited the missed visit charge’ - Oh how generous! - I continued to stress that this was a new build, that it had probably been connected to the wrong flat and that someone needed to actually get in a van and come out to us. I was assured that this would happen on 11/12/09. Why did I believe what BT was telling me, when I should have known that it was a lie?


● 11/12/09 arrived, BT didn’t!


● The 11/12/09 is my wife’s birthday. We planned to go out to lunch to celebrate but cancelled because we were keen to get the telephone line sorted. Another 5 hours wasted and my wife’s birthday ruined, and again no real reason given for why BT had failed yet again. Clearly at this point I was getting very agitated and managed to get through to a supervisor that did actually start to help. The best that she could offer me was another 8am to 1pm appointment the next day 12/12/09. I was told that it couldn’t be any narrower a window than that but that she would try and make it a priority.


● 12/12/09 arrived, and the first hour passed, but no sign of BT. I phoned to speak to the supervisor and after much agitation I was told that the job had been issued to an engineer. He turned up and the problem was sorted quite quickly - the line had not been connected up to the correct property (what a surprise) - by 11.30am we had a working phone


This is some of the worst service that I have ever experienced from any organisation. I suspect that it is only the fact BT is a near monopoly that keeps you in business, as it certainly isn’t anything to do with the way you treat your customers. This might come as a shock to you but contempt is not an effective sales tool. Not that anyone will care but we were considering switching to one of your broadband/television packages. As you can imagine, that won’t be happening now. We also intend to switch phone providers as soon as possible.

To sum up:

● BT has cost us a great deal of time and money - please see the invoice herewith
● BT caused us a great deal of stress - not good for two people with high blood pressure
● We had to wait in for a total of 18 hours
● I had to top up my mobile twice (┬ú20 total) to report this ongoing problem
● BT staff are very quick to tell the customer at every available opportunity what BT will charge in the likely event that it is the customer to blame.
● At no time (apart from the 12/12/09) did you even consider keeping me informed.

BT YOU HAVE FAILED BIG TIME!

Rearrange the following words to form a popular phrase to describe BT:

‘arrange’ ‘brewery’ ‘couldn’t’ ‘BT’ ‘piss-up’ ‘a’ ‘in’ ‘a’


Yours faithfully,

P Garrard

Not having a phone connection meant that I could not arrange for my broadband to be moved (as it is with Orange). Last night it returned. Oh happy days!

I’m not holding my breath over even getting a reply from them let alone paying my invoice, but we shall see.

Have you been?

I don’t drink lager that often. Well, its girls beer really. But I bought a six pack of VB (Victoria Bitter - lager from Australia) recently, for old time’s sake. We used to sell loads of it when we had our beer shop. I’m not sure if I bought a dodgy batch but boy does it go through you like a dose of salts. I now have one bottle left and I’ve decided to keep it for when my diet takes a dip on the old roughage!

VB = laxative extraordinaire

Shit happens, again!

It was a cruel irony that a couple of days before the start of national Carers Week my lady, who works in that sector within local government, fell and broke her ankle, again, and I effectively became her carer. Our life was thrown out of kilter a couple of weeks ago and it is taking me a while to adjust to coping with everything I have to do. The break was quite bad this time, in fact it was two fractures, and so they had to operate and put plate and pins in. As a result she has to keep her leg up most of the time for the next six weeks.

In some ways we were a bit prepared for the consequences of the temporary disability as it’s less than a year since she broke her ankle (same one) before, but unfortunately she has less mobility this time.

I really feel for those that are full-time/permanent carers. It’s not an easy job. Without them the health and social service sectors would grind to a halt. Carers are so vital yet so often go unsung. Our predicament should be short lived. We’ve just had to put our lives on hold for a short period. But for those that have to live this way all of the time I am sure often struggle.

My lady has been treated at the Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital, where the treatment and the staff have all been first class. It’s a modern hospital that was one of the first, I believe, to have been built as a public-private ‘partnership’. Apart from that I only noticed one major flaw it has been designed, probably, by able bodied people for able bodied people. Yes they have no doubt conformed to disability legislation but that is really as far as it goes. You don’t really notice these things until it affects your life in some way. It is just so hard to take someone with their leg in plaster to Out Patients firstly there is a distinct lack of managed space to drop someone off by car, and near enough to the entrance. The next hurdle is to wander off and find a wheelchair. Another trial. I’m sure that those that are permanently disabled would be thinking that I should stop whinging and to stop being such a big girl’s blouse. Which may well be a fair point but my next gripe I feel is much warranted. You would imagine that a fracture clinic is going to have more than its fair share of bods on crutches or in wheelchairs. That given why on earth are their waiting rooms so user unfriendly?

There is nowhere to park a wheelchair, movement around chairs is difficult, nay precarious, and for a new facility that is treating people with broken bones it’s diabolical!

All these shenanigans along with some heavy duty diy, some days away and other assorted grief prior to The Lady’s accident has meant that I’ve been neglecting my blogs. I hope I’ve now got things under control and can get back to blogging a bit more. Watch this (and this: www.realaleblog.co.uk) space.

Grounded

If The Lady hadn’t broken her ankle we would have been looking forward to flying off to Cyprus tonight. Well actually we wouldn’t. Guess who we’d booked to fly with?

Yes, you guessed it. XL.COM.

I feel for the poor sods that have had their holiday dreams shattered or are stranded in some foreign land. I also feel for the poor sods that will no doubt lose their jobs. You do kind of think that this will not be the last airline to go down due to the current economic climate.

Shit most certainly does happen.

Religious Truths

TAOISM
Shit happens.

BUDDHISM
If shit happens, it isn’t really shit.

HINDUISM
This shit has happened before.

ISLAM
If shit happens, it is the will of Allah.

CATHOLISISM
Shit happens because you deserve it.

PROTESTANTISM
Let shit happen to someone else.

JUDAISM
Why does shit always happen to us?

Shit Happens

For our holiday this year we planned to go to Cyprus. Some friends of ours have a house out there, so all we needed to do was buy the plane tickets, which we did in plenty of time. Unfortunately last Thursday The Lady broke her ankle. She now has to wear this large Goth-like black boot for six weeks and hobble around on crutches. Because she is a diabetic the doctor has said she can’t fly. Cyprus is cancelled!

Needless to say I’m crying into my beer.

Oh well,shit happens.